


ignem gladio scrutare

by dollyfish



Category: Original Work
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Clothed/Naked, Come as Lube, Double Penetration, Dry Humping, Face-Fucking, Forced Orgasm, Gang Rape, Gladiators, Hand Jobs, Held As A Sex Slave By Enemy, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Sexual Violence, Slave Trade, spitroasted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-04-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 20:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14316279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollyfish/pseuds/dollyfish
Summary: adde cruorem stultitiæ, atque ignem gladio scrutare. (horatius)An Empire needs more servants than it needs princes. Enemies are on the lookout for small birds to devour, royal blood can fall, and an alignment could be rather dire.to your folly add bloodshed, and stir the fire with the sword. (horace)





	ignem gladio scrutare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rubynye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rubynye/gifts).



> Of course, my first time writing an original story had to be shameless smut. It's how my life is, I can't help but feel somewhat thrilled as I post this.  
> Of course, I take no pride in how the story is orchestrated or the very questionable characters, but in my defense those are not the point of this gift exchange and surely not my goal while I wrote this. And it may not look like it but I came to care a lot for this fic since the first step. Since I sat with my computer with small scraps of ideas and got the first 300 words in. It didn't always flow smoothly, and maybe you'll notice, but I am glad I took up the challenge and somehow made it work at the very end (because yes, as usual, I finished it just hours before the deadline.) And now that I have something concrete on my hands, I realize that perhaps it's useful to step out of comfort zones sometimes, to come up with something on your own and see if it catches fire. Because this time it did. 
> 
> To my recipient, Rubynye: I hope you at least get horny reading this because I swear I did my best. Maybe one day I'll look back to this main character and feel like delving more into him, but for now he's exactly what he's said to be in the fic, nothing more. I honestly didn't think a whole storyline through, so you may read into it and make your own assumptions freely. Thank you for giving me a theme to work with. I hope I respected your wishes and that you find this enjoyable!
> 
> Also, last but not least, I'd like to thank the people responsible for this fic's existence. Anth and El, you're both nasty and awesome and your support reaches me whenever I need it. Thanks for tolerating me and my nsfw agenda, especially at 4 AM. 
> 
> Yeah I think I'm finished; Let's dive right in.

 

 

 

Aiden watched the rain speckle the tiles of the high temple with an air of collected placidity. The sound of each raindrop rang out loud, slippery and harmonious, as clear as a voice speaking directly into his sensitive ear in somber tunes, and above all sounds, it was apparently gentle, almost totally drowning out the sounds of the world beyond the sanctified, geometric borders Aiden knew better than the wrinkles on his own palm. The pale fringe that grazed his forehead barely flinched at the tugs and pulls of the smoke-saturated zephyr which breathed in and out of the valley. His fine, perfumed locks curved on his temples, levitated for a few seconds before brushing on his face again, almost achingly, like a motherly caress which manifested itself as a feeble, reluctant intention of the wind.

Everything was homogeneous, from mountains to houses to towers to rivers to every branch of the large human settlement which spread, not unlike an inkstain, in all directions. It looked as if it strived to touch with greedy fingers a hundred, a thousand horizons… but it always amounted to nothing, in comparison to the vastitude of one’s gaze.

 

It was a wealthy, undefeated, undiscussed capital. The capital of an empire, no less, and it acted quite like the part; an authentic pearl under clear blue-rose, yellow, heavy and pigmented, glittering skies, and favorable weather. Mansions, bathhouses, and even the infamous training facilities, saunas, and houses of ill repute. Each of them frequented by the lowest among the low; the Gladiators’ class.

Deprived of its gold and ivory verdigris by a colorless curtain of rain, the view told a very different story to the prince who scanned the valley with growing detachment. The outline of buildings and mountains and any other thing crafted by human or divine hands and ingenuity, all blurred into a clouded grey sky, so low it looked like fog, but so thick that it seemed to come down from heaven… As if such a place existed.

 

Rain trickled down the walls and the roofs and it cleaned the streets, it filled baskets and mouths of dying children with pure water, and maybe a few blessings too, but Aiden only beheld an old city, rotting away in vengeful scraps, buzzing shadows cast by a nothingness of blinding mirages. He walked on a suspended thread between pits of disgust and bone-deep longing for his obscene capital, and this pale sight made a sort of nostalgic sentiment surface in his chest, as though he couldn’t bear to see it reduced to such an miserable scenery.

It kindled the bruised part of him, the one still capable of feeling an ounce of pride.

 

“You can show yourself. Stop making me wait and come out of there.” Aiden’s words half-heartedly disturbed the quiet and got lost in the downpour, empty and inflectionless, giving away no actual interest. “I cannot possibly run anywhere or ask for help, if that’s what you’re concerned about. You're here to collect me, aren't you?”

 

And it was not a lie, since a whole squadron of royal guards was keeping watch all around the sanctuary, and their duty was sure as hell not to protect him. On the contrary, what was inside the temple shall stay inside the temple. An unlikely escape attempt would have caused a ruckus and hardly given him any advantage, given his current position.

 

As Aiden had requested, a colossal, faceless shadow made itself known, walking away from the column behind which it had been hiding. It was just another faceless no-one. What made it worth the wait was a dark cape, thick enough to wrap around the figure so that nothing would be discernable aside from a pair of razor-sharp eyes pointed right into Aiden’s, but mud-stained and dirty, presumably from the walk through the wood, from the dull leather boots to the lower hem of the cape, masterfully concealing the identity of its wearer. As no emblem was embroidered on the cape, there was no telling who might have sent this no-one to perform such an unflattering duty as slave trade, although this is not to say that Aiden couldn’t try and have his own theory. Another politically prominent family, willing to pay enough to have a disgrace of a prince as a servant? Yes, but some fellowship of perverts was just as likely. Some wealthy private citizen, not as much.

What was the price of a prince who, for his own arrogance, had fallen from grace? Well, that was something he wasn’t allowed to know. He should have tried to estabilish that with Father.

 

“I’ll admit I expected a different reaction from you, Your Majesty.” The figure spoke quieter than the rain, moved forward with leisurely and confident strides. Its broad shoulders rattled with a profound sigh, which sounded almost amused. “Forgive me, for I wrongly underestimated you. I am, you see, used to different circumstances. Ah, I didn’t even change into clean robes before making my way here. My heartfelt apologies.”

 

“What kind of ‘different’ are you used to?” Aiden flicked some locks of hair out of his oval, fair-looking face. He wasn’t as unperturbed as he tried to seem, and a curved eyebrow betrayed his impatience, for there was nothing he felt strongly enough except a gnawing beast made of it. His hair fell obediently away from the trajectory of his gaze.

 

The hood of the figure tilted slightly to the left., inquiring. “Oh, me and my mouth. It is unprofessional of me, I fear, Your Majesty. I’m not usually the one to hide, that is all! Hiding is a noble pattern of behavior but it fits much more… Now, you won’t mind me saying this, I hope… It fits people such as you.”

 

“I do not mind in the least. However, I must ask. Are you being so courteous with the vile intent of mocking me?”

 

The figure’s steps faltered, its hands going up against its chest while very nearly stumbling to a halt. “Why, to have you call me vile! Vile! Except for the correct assumption that I am mocking you, I’m showing you the grace of fighting a battle within my soul. Getting close to you, catching you like a soft water fish… Or having you run away from me, and trying to find you, I cannot choose. But you, you must call me vile. It's a bleak day, after all, and I may be sensitive to the insults of a young man.”

 

Aiden hummed. He walked away from the colonnade that enclosed the entrance like an elegant cage, toward the heart of the temple. “I have no intention of running away. Not before I say my prayers to God. The High Senate has given me an hour to pray, only an hour, and you will respect it.” He expected No-one to follow him inside, but he heard no steps on the pearl-white tiles. When he looked back he found that the figure was still watching him motionlessly from it the same spot, stark black against the bleak, watery landscape, one leather-covered hand leaning on a column.

 

“A real pity, Your Majesty. I’ve always preferred hunting to fishing.”

 

Still attempting to appear dignified, the fallen prince waited for his hour to run out kneeling on an altar. He didn’t believe in any God, strictly speaking; but regardless his hands were clasped, sweaty and tight, and his blood hot and painful like a shot of thunder. No god was there, but he prayed silently that No-one couldn’t hear his galloping heart.

 

xxx

 

The chains around his wrists kept them crossed behind his back at an uncomfortable angle, and tight enough to carve indents as small as a nail’s head into his soft skin. The pain pulsating through his arm, down to each finger, gradually intensified as his mind drifted into consciousness. The contents of his head felt like they’d been agitated inside a bottle and thrown in the ocean during a storm. A bizarre numbness lingered in the lower part of his body, especially his feet, and he wondered how long he’d walked to reach this constricted and obscure, bad-smelling place… He remembered walking, being pushed down a lightless tunnel and hands -large, knotted hands- reaching for him from left and right, emerging like big, cruel teeth from the darkness behind sinister iron bars.

He remember being pulled along by the leather gloves of that No-one, and the cold material pressed flush against his shoulder blades, surprising but not disturbing him. The temperature was higher down there than on the outside. Suffocating.

 

He remembered the same No-one who took him away from the temple, who never pulled down his hood and exposed his face in front of Aiden, looking down at him with those mirthless copper-colored eyes and telling him, in a suave voice, as they walked and walked: “Come on, the quicker we get you to your room, the sooner you can sleep. My Lord will want to see you soon.”

 

And he remembered dodging when a brawny arm from one of the cells they passed by had tried to grab him, and his heart beating a mile per minute, pumping blood up to his brain. Light-headed, he remembered asking No-one: “It was a Lord who bought me?”

 

He didn’t remember the answer to that.

 

Another detail he picked up was the ground on which he’d been lying unconscious. Even, warm, as dry as sun-burnt earth on a scorching summer day. But it couldn’t be, because the place clearly wasn’t in the open, but rather situated underneath some sort of busy place, like the local market; and the smell, that unmistakable smell, was that of the scum, a sweaty and savage mass of plebs. And the only thing that gave him the certainty that it was daybreak was an oval slit on the ceiling of his prison, so small that a wrist could barely make its way through, but a single ray of light came in. The sky, painted with heavy, vivid strokes of blue and golden, was nothing like the anger-loaded, clouded sky that was still a clear image in his head. He couldn’t hear the rain anymore. The loss felt like a missing limb. The sun shone bright, and the open place overhead was filled to the brim with people who didn’t mean a thing to him, but the sounds they made didn’t reach Aiden’s ears except for a substratum of buzzing, shapeless chatter.

His body was more sore than he expected when he pulled himself up from the ground, craning up his head to stare as best as he could at the bright hole in the ceiling, being the best source of light he could identify at the moment.  The darkness all around it was thicker than a silk curtain, like a vapour that rose from the ground and mingled with the grains of dust and filth in the room. Breath that air, Aiden thanked himself for never acquainting himself with popular contexts throughout his life at the Palace, although remembering that now sent a shock of newfound dread through him.

If whoever had bought him intended to let him wither away, perish to hunger and thirst, he was hugely mistaken in his calculations. This presumed Lord couldn’t kill him. Aiden was a slave, but one unlike any other; Aiden was the progeny of the divine bloodline who’d been subduing, reaping, ruling since any mortal had memory of it; Aiden would not let himself succumb to anything.

 

He caught a movement with the corner of his eye. He jumped and turned around, wide-eyed, the stupor turning his body to stone. Whatever it was, snaking somewhere in the dark, appeared to be startled by Aiden’s reaction and stopped moving, but when he squinted to try and discern an outline, he only came up with nothing but that derisive emptiness. There didn’t seem to be any bars in the room, like there would be if he was locked in a cell.

 

“Who’s there?” He received no response. He had trouble swallowing, but didn’t let it show. “I know I’m not alone. Whoever is there… Come forth so I can see you.”

 

Eventually, he sat back on the dusty, warm floor. A similar rustle to his left made him shudder, making him involuntarily turn in the direction the noise came from, but the moment he did, though he noticed the shape of a hand reaching for him from behind, he could not act fast enough to avoid it.

It grabbed the back of his neck, strong, decidedly too sudden to be opposed. It knocked all breath out of Aiden’s airway, forcing him to keep his head as high as he could so as not to make the hold painful. His wrists were reserved the same treatment despite being already tired by a firm chain. His mind blacked out for a moment too long, and there he was, unbreathing and paralyzed, depending on one hand large enough to almost circle his neck from thumb to forefinger for balance. If it let him go, his unresponsive body would have surely crumbled into a heap at a moment’s notice.

When Aiden’s gaze grew focused again, he could state what he’d always known in the back of his mind, since first waking up as a slive, deprived of his invulnerability, his title; the only things he'd ever cared for. But not alone. Never alone.

 

At the recognition of his state of vulnerability, Aiden pulled his his eyes shut and took in a few breaths. Danger was an animal breathing down his neck, making the short hairs on his nape stand on end and tension curdle in his muscles. He counted four of them in front of him. His range was slightly limited at the present moment. He supposed there was at least one more immobilising him from behind, but the rest was up to case. Aiden had no idea of knowing how close to the truth his guess was; perhaps he didn’t want to know.

 

“Happy now, Your Majesty? You gave the order, and we would never refuse you.” A man, one with golden teeth replacing the ones which had rotten or shattered, remarked while looking him straight in the eye. He spat out Aiden’s title as if it were meat for hyenas. In fact, a few snickers rose up from all around them.

 

With a defiance he couldn’t allow himself, Aiden held up his chin. He realized the mistake soon enough, when the man behind him let go of his nape and moved his grasp to the dusty strands of blond hair on top of Aiden’t head. He didn’t do anything particularly threatening with it. It was enough for Aiden to know; one wrong step, and they would come off easier than a loose thread from a robe.

 

“Don’t fret now, my prince. It’s a good thing that you woke up so soon. You’ve been treated with every honor and regard”, another said, a smooth and mellow voice. The seductive tone didn’t evade Aiden’s notice, on the contrary. He saw the smile the man wrapped it up with, and the fact that this time around all his teeth were perfectly in place, sharp and carnivorous like a shark’s, made Aiden’s stomach lurch. He didn’t know what it was that those two rows of stunning cruelty spurred within him, whether it leaned more towards disgust or fear.

 

“Yes, indeed”, the prince hissed. An experimental yank on his scalp made him shut his mouth and grit his teeth. After a second, his fine features contorted into a grimace. The grinning man had moved closer, not enough to invade his personal space but still disgustingly intimate. He wanted the message to be clear, and he succeeded; it was a sort of proximity Aiden would have never allowed his subjects. Aiden's strict perception of intimacy didn’t count much more than a scrap, in that horrendous dungeon which he'd been forced to share with a group of barbarians. He wouldn’t have looked at them twice, but the persistent fist in his hair didn’t give him much of a choice.

 

“Allow me the insolence.” Another roar of laughter somewhere behind the prince. “But your beauty exceeds the tales we’ve heard”, said the man, crouching down so that his drooping eyes would be level with Aiden’s.

 

“There’s not a lot of people who can say the same in the Empire”, another one conceded. Aiden didn’t see his face nor did he care. He could only think about the hand in his hair.

 

“That a lowly group of Gladiators -would you prefer _servants of the Empire?-_  would be granted this blessing… It’s a humbling experience. Isn’t it, guys?” The left hand of the grinning man came up to touch Aiden’s arm, but it impatiently slid up to his shoulder, then his neck, and its excruciating trail came to an end when two of his fingers caressed the underside of his chin, almost carefully. He left no mark, no lingering redness, but he wore no glove, and thus Aiden was bound to feel every inch and bump that dragged up his skin like a viper’s kiss. Hard and coarse fingertips. “Everyone says you’re a treasure. A shy one, though.”

 

Gladiators. All the men in the room were Gladiators. In an instant, the pieces clicked into place; the warm floor, the slit in the ceiling, the noisy mob outside.

 

“B-Back off.” Aiden’s voice cracked under the nerves that threatened to split his body in two. Rigid, heated breaths left his lips despite his endeavor to rein them in. As a possible heir to the throne, his indoctrination gave quite a lot of importance to dissimulating feelings of anxiety and constantly giving away a semblance of control. He had been good until this point. Very good. Someone out there would be proud of this, perhaps. He just didn’t know who, and how stupid they must be. “Back off. Don’t touch me.” His voice showed weakness again.

 

The Gladiator whose fingers hooked under his chin, surprised, coaxed his face to turn slightly to the right. That man spoke in silky and suggestive ways, which crawled under Aiden’s fluttering robes as if his words were another pair of fingers, indeed much more explorative. “I’m afraid it’s not you who gives the orders anymore, sweetheart.” After stating that as the most natural law of the universe, the man looked up, seemingly at the person who immobilized Aiden from behind. A look of genuine hunger flashed on his face. “You said we could go on and do whatever we want, Dux. You don't mind if we rough him up a little, do you?”

 

Aiden’s body was suddenly released from behind, the painful grip on both his scalp and his wrists no longer there. As a result, he lost his balance and got knocked forward; he would have tasted the floor’s dust if rough hands hadn’t caught him and pulled him up to his feet. The Gladiator - his teeth were showing now, absolutely lucid and villainous - stuffed his hands under Aiden’s robe, a square of cloth held in place around him by a simple string. His ardent touch felt up the prince’s waggling waist, palming his shapely hips and clambering higher until he was roaming and pinching the skin on his chest.

There were the sounds of shuffling and heavy panting, until Aiden realized he was the one producing both, trying to back away from the man who kept him in his clutches. Only fear guided his actions. Fear and nothing else was rising, throbbing, bubbling in his throat like an organ of its own and in his head an implacable stream of _“no no please not like this no...”_

 

It hit him so hard he barely registered it, the slap. Unlike those of his parents, when he used to be stubborn as a child; and decidedly more similar to the acts of violence he had committed against his servants and thoroughly justified himself for. In this slap was contempt, and the promise that there would be others. He wished he could feel his cheek with a hand, but they were both bound behind his back. Besides, he already knew.

 

He knew what came next too, but he was not prepared for any of it.

The prince stumbled back until he met the chest of another Gladiator, whose hands immediately traveled up to his shoulders, his touch lascivious like the knee that was abruptly nudging its way between his naked legs. The tremor rattling his entire body got more intense when the shark got closer to him again, gliding his eyes up and down Aiden’s form, taking him the smallest dips and curves, the captivating shaking of his lips and the blanching color of his cheeks.

All of it was way too arousing for the Gladiator. His dominating hands returned to Aiden.

 

“S-Stop… I’m not- Please, I’ve never-” The stream of pleads was cut off by the Gladiator’s mouth on his. It felt warm and intrusive, which made Aiden stop moving for a few seconds, enough for the man to dive his tongue deeper into the prince’s unprepared mouth without finding any struggle. He caressed his palate and the wet tissue of his cheeks avidly, as though he found inside Aiden’s mouth a delicious nectar which made him thirstier and rougher with every twirl of his tongue against the prince’s. Aiden’s sounds of protest were swallowed one by one.

 

“We’ve waited a long time for you, little thing”, the Gladiator holding him whispered. Then he kissed a spot below the prince’s ear, lapped at it until the skin turned into a wet bruise and blood seemed about to break the surface and flow out. Aiden’s skin had the fresh and fragile whiteness of nocturnal snow.

 

The prince’s lips were crimson and messy with spit when the Gladiator broke away. He moaned feebly. There was a heavy knot in his throat, hindering his ability to speak. His pale hair was glued to his forehead, beads of sweat trickling down in rivulets and sticking to the thin bow of his brows.

The Gladiator winded an arm around his waist and pulled them closer together, so much that a breath would have barely passed through the junction of their bodies. Aiden found himself pressed between the two, unable to flinch away from the love bites being showered on his neck.

His hand got positioned on the dark happy trail, a patch of coarse curly hair, above the crotch of the man in front of him, covered by a rudimental pair of pants that clung to his skin down to mid-calf. Aiden hesitated, perceiving the intimidating heat just inches below his fingertips, and a shudder of disgust shot through him. The man, however, persisted; guiding him by the wrist, he vehemently forced Aiden’s hand to cup his crotch. Aiden tried to struggle, and his wrist bone received a warning squeeze of encouragement. He bit down a whimper and bowed his head, starting to work his hands around the unfamiliar bulge, pressing it into the heel of his hand to get the hang of its proportions. It was not nearly as difficult as he would have thought; soon enough the bulge, although clothed, was growing sensibly more stiff and somewhat larger under his always tentative touch, until it didn’t fit his hand, and his fingers needed to wrap around it. The cloth, now warmer than before, was very tense around that spot. It felt somehow constrictive, and made the movements of Aiden’t small and inexperienced hand a bit clumsy.

Behind him, the Gladiator grabbed Aiden’s jaw and tipped it back to plant an open-mouthed kiss on the front of his throat, baring it like a predator would a deer’s stomach just before diving in. His pelvis was rolling with a fast cadence into the sweet, perfect curve of Aiden’s ass, urging him forward a bit with his own crotch. The pressure of it, rock-hard and decidedly big, made him bump their bodies together to create friction, though not fitting smoothly at all. Aiden’s head had dropped onto the man’s firm shoulder; the slit in the ceiling seemed to point its glaring light at him, and he closed his eyes.

He felt that other Gladiators were watching. One had likely grown tired of the limited satisfaction, and had kneeled down to undo the prince’s sandal; then he began to lick circles into the side of his thigh, in a way that would suggest he was enjoying his meal, if this were anything like a banquet.

He tried to stay as still as he could, with the exception of the ministrations he was performing on the Gladiator’s crotch, but soon enough that failed to meet their needs. The men tugged up his tunic, throwing the cord which kept it together to the side, without any sort of regard for his pleads to leave it on. They were just as impatient while they pulled down their own pants and assaulted Aiden’s naked body once again. This time, the prince heard the distinct sound of flesh slapping on his skin, the burn, the dampness caused by their sweat and bodily fluids.

 

“Oh, oh _yes_ ”, the Gladiator behind him growled. He growled, grunted, and humped his dick against Aiden’s cheeks, hissing into his ear when it slid suddenly in the slit between them. “You’ll make me come soon like this, Your Majesty.”

 

The other Gladiator couldn’t say he was far from that point either. Aiden’s hand was wrapped around the head of his cock, giving it little strokes and tentatively brushing his thumb on the underside. The quicker Aiden tried to work the shaft, the man got more unsatisfied. He reached down and gripped Aiden’s hand, keeping it uncomfortably locked around his cock; making him feel every vein, every little detail as the hardness grew.

 

“C’mon, be a good boy now”, he chuckled, and as he did so he thrust into their joined hands so hard Aiden bit his lip fervently. The words sent a jolt of lightning down his spine, straight to his lower belly. “Yes. Exactly like that. Don't stop. Don't-” And he kept going, moving his hand forward until it reached the dark hair at the base and back, and frantically thrusting forward. Aiden moaned from the pain. His tormentor’s moans sounded much hoarser as he came generously into their hands. He squeezed Aiden’s hand once again before letting it go, but the weight of his body all over the prince didn’t lift. Instead, he leant down to press his teeth harshly into Aiden’s shoulder.

 

The Gladiator behind his back was in a similar state of abandon. His fully erect cock stroked up and down Aiden’s ass, smearing translucid precome all over his slit. It made the thrusts less painful than before, when the dry leather of his pants had been scuffing delicate skin; no, it was different now, with the man’s smooth cock sliding on just the surface of the rim of muscle where Aiden simultaneously feared and hungered to be touched. The painfully sensual rutting of the Gladiator against his ass, the kisses on his thigh, the persistent brushing of his foot against another Gladiator’s crotch; they were getting to his head, and he felt as though his body was acting on his own despite the vertiginous pit of regret that gnawed at his chest. He squirmed into those foreign arms, but this apparently sent the man over the edge with a loud groan. He clutched the prince impossibly closer and he spasmed one, two times, coming hard. Aiden’s stomach dropped like dead weight and an icy, unpleasant sensation filled him from head to toe.

A hot stream of cum splattered between his asscheeks and on his back, staining his white tunic.

 

The Gladiator let him go and a different pair of sun-tanned arms closed around Aiden. The shark pulled away after sending him an approving grin and a faint stroke on his flushed face. “Tired already? The fun has barely started.” He tucked his member back into his pants, then addressed the troop of Gladiator which had been holding back with lust-filled stares. “Who’s gonna have the first round with him?”

 

Aiden could barely lift his eyes towards them, but after a bit of a commotion one of the men came forth. Half his face was disfigured by a pink scar, from eyebrow to his jaw, as if he’d suffered a severe burn wound, and his eyes gleamed, vicious. Aiden’s knees buckled when his piercing stare met the prince’s. The Gladiator sat in front of him, hands casually hugging his knees.

Other pairs of hands slid up Aiden’s chest, tearing off his tunic and leaving him in a frustrating, total state of undress. There was many, too many of them. They touched him up, soiled and calloused, exploring every inch of his milky skin they could reach. Some of them were wide enough they circled his thighs and tightened their grip to coax all sorts of pleading sounds out his lips. Aiden let out a gasping, heavy sigh when a few fingers started teasing his erect nipples, with light pinches at first, which increasingly degenerated into a torture made of sharp twirls and tugs.

A tongue joined them. Aiden fought a moan, tears welling up in his eyes. His nipple was taken into a scalding mouth, and hungry bites were followed by hungry laps. This treatment on his breasts, against his better judgement, was making a white-hot pressure pool in his stomach, more and more painful with each stroke.  
When a calloused finger, belonging to someone he didn’t see, slid between his thighs, collecting the droplets of cum and sweat there, the prince became a wailing mess.

 

He snapped. “No! No, no! Don’t- Don’t touch me there, it feels-”

 

A chuckle from below him answered his protests. The man ostentatiously traced his perineum, then, slowly, reached the sensitive rim. But it didn’t stop there, and it didn’t take him long to swirl around the edge only to nudge his way in. Aiden winced, taken off guard. The man’s finger went all the way in with no preparation at all, stretching Aiden’s hole wide open. The prince tightened around the intrusion, hoping for the sting in his entrance to die down soon. He wasn’t that lucky.

One finger became two, then three, as the man pushed deeper and harder inside him. He showed no mercy. Every one of his nerves culminated in the pain in his lower body; he felt like his insides were burning. Only after several pleads, when the sobs were rocking his chest, his ass got used to the shape of the intrusion and the pain softened, turning into a sore tingling. The fingers hooked roughly, pushing against that sweet bundle of nerves. Then, with no forewarning, they slipped out.

 

“Ah… No…” Aiden released a small moan. Big tears welled up in his blue, moisty eyes. He wasn’t in control of his mouth, mind a beehive of violent and conflictual feelings. “No… no…”

 

Suddenly the world tilted. Aiden was levered on top of the Gladiator with a scarred face, lean, trembling legs on both sides of his waist, straddling him. The Gladiator’s hands had every intention to form bruises when they traveled up to Aiden’s soft thighs.The flesh gave concerningly easily, made tender from all the nibs and unloving bites delivered to it. A crimson blush had Aiden’s cheeks burning, his head feeling lighter than a feather. The Gladiator under him reclined against the floor and lined up Aiden’s hips with his own.

Oh, his touch felt so demanding, and yet so exquisitely safe to lean on! Aiden’s legs were sore from standing and enduring all those shivers, and he couldn’t help but sigh in relief at sitting into the man’s lap.

The burn came a second too late as his vision blacked out.

 

Aiden’s mouth went slack and wide, tongue dripping saliva.

 

No sound left him, but his fingers spasmed and reached for nothingness, writhing against the chain. His back, neck and pelvis were paralyzed by the enormous cock which impaled his ass, impossibly deep, and filled him _so_ good. He tried to come back to his senses, and he did, for a moment long enough to choke on his own pride. But that cock was so unlike anything he’d ever taken; the girth enough to stretch him wide till the very end. The tip had uncommon dimensions too. Aiden felt every inch of it as if he was exploring it with his hands. That cock was so big it pushed as it moved against his delicate walls, a discordant presence, though not entirely painful. So big, Aiden felt like it reached the bottom of his throat.

The Gladiator thrust in his whole length the first time. He, too, seemed breathless. As he started pushing deeper, completely immersing his cock in that tight heat, his hands kept Aiden anchored to his cock by the hips.

 

A series of miserable moans fell from the bruised mouth of the royal. He wanted to scream, to struggle, to get up on his feet and flee, or just to disappear. If only his legs would let him… Instead, he bounced on and off the largest cock of his - probably short - life, helplessly chained to the pleasure-seeking pace of the Gladiator.

 

Aiden’s waist was grabbed by another. A crooked nose brushed on the soft curve of his jaw. The prince looked the opposite way, a weak attempt to testify his unwillingness when he still failed to formulate a coherent word. The Gladiator’s hands wandered up to palm his flat breasts. “I like your perfume”, he groaned, low and raspy, licking lavishly the shell of Aiden’s ear. “Look at you. Hungry for cock, are you? Such a little slut we’ve got...”

 

Almost unresponsive by now, the prince’s head lolled forward, a slew of gorgeous pants coming out. He only registered the implication of the words when the guy’s head was intent on stretching his entrance even more, pushing in with a wet _pop_ . The second cock slid along the first in a staccato of brutal intensity. Aiden’s hole spasmed languidly in a futile effort not to be torn open. It _burned_ , it hurt so fucking bad, like being bent beyond his breaking point; it hurt like nothing he ever experienced, or thought he could experience. His body was a raw wound and it instinctively pulled away from the cock ripping him apart. He tasted his hot, pouring tears on his tongue. It was so much pain he couldn’t _think…_ How could be whole again after this? Would he even be able to stand? It felt like something was being wrenched to shreads, making a mess of his insides. Why couldn’t they kill him instead? If he begged for it, would someone end his pain?

Aiden sobbed and pleaded for it to be over, but to no avail. The Gladiator buried himself to the hilt into Aiden’s tightness, his crotch pressing flush against the prince’s spread cheeks.

 

Strangled cries were all Aiden could make and they would have terrified him, if he regained enough sense of himself. But as things stood he was a doll, supple and porcelain-perfect, pretty and breakable, in the claws of a beast. The Gladiators who got him double penetrated moved in unison. He was called a _“slut_ ”, a _good whore_ , and all things impure and filthy, and with each one of them came another merciless thrust. They drove deeper and further into him, producing the squelching sounds and the scent of sex that permeated the room. It wouldn’t leave for days.

The man under him was too lost in pleasure to be vocal, but he was gripping Aiden’s thighs like a life line and imprinting his touch into the candid flesh, so _hard_ and _good_ , Aiden would never forget the exact distance between his fingers.

A shadow settled over him and, cracking an eye open, Aiden saw that another Gladiator had positioned himself in front of him. Feet on both sides of the other man’s torso, he drove a rough hand in Aiden’s sweaty locks. Wasting no time, he pulled forward the prince’s head and shoved his cock into his mouth. He didn’t seem concerned with the fact that Aiden could not breathe for a good ten seconds, at which point he leant back a few inches and let Aiden relax his mouth. The prince tried to unwind as much as he could, and the pressure of the cock inside him (which admittedly wasn’t even half the length) hurt a little less after that. Squeezing his lips around it, he allowed it to pierce his throat. And oh, how nice it felt, that massive dick invading his whole mouth and thrusting down, again and again. It hit the back of his throat and Aiden thought that the hand holding the back of his head may feel it, it went in so deep… He had never been filled _so deep_ .  
He moaned, saliva dripping from his lips a the man started bucking his hips frantically. The man gripped the base of his hair tighter, risking to pull out a few strands from how mindlessly he was fucking Aiden’s face.

The cocks still pounding him from behind kindled the consuming flame in his gut. Aiden’s insides felt so full, so much and so thoroughly _fucked_ ; his abused hole used to both intrusions, to the point it seemed to take it all so eagerly, widening and sucking them in. And yet, the pain was unerasable. Aiden’s skin was wrecked by shivers. He didn’t want the pleasure this was giving him, however faint and meager, and he didn’t want to look down and see what they were doing to him.

 

A violent orgasm ripped through his flesh, his whole body. He fell to pieces under the vicious thrusts and blows to his prostate- But, strangely, all he felt was relief washing over his mind, all frustration and shame evaporating like raindrops in the scorching sun. Only a numb pain remained; only a shivery afterglow. His vision clouded, eyes rolled back.

Hot semen flowed down his throat. When the man’s cock left his mouth, it was only thanks to instinct that Aiden filled his lungs with air and his cheeks regained some color.

The prince flinched when the other Gladiators poured their loads inside him. It didn’t end after a single orgasm; it kept shooting through him, his walls, by now, soiled and filthy and painted with the men’s pleasure.

In his daze, Aiden came a second time, emptying himself onto the Gladiator’s stomach.

 

Utterly spent, this time he did crumble to the floor, in a lifeless heap of bones and semen. Their cocks had abandoned him, leaving him feeling torturously hollowed. His legs, scattered with pretty purples and pinks, wouldn’t hold him up any longer.

Someone above him grunted approvingly. The shark. It was him, of course. But the man who spread his thighs wide open and settled between them wasn’t the shark, rather a broad-shouldered Gladiator whose face Aiden had no interest in remembering. But he felt him draw the prince closer, making his back arch off the floor, hook the prince’s calves around his waist- And despite it all, what scared Aiden, this time, was the whine that left his own lips. Exhausted as he was, his body wanted more, and his mouth gasped around somethig that was no longer there. Aiden's tongue glossed over his sleek lips.

"Beg for my dick, Your Majesty."

He decided it would be easier to face the dark ceiling, as sunlight spilled onto his unseeing eyes. 

Then he counted to three, and forgot himself. 

 

xxx

 

The smooth, hearty sound of light leather soles stopped very close to his head, which lay abandoned on the floor. Aiden’s eyes blinked open, then wandered toward the sound with no actual intent in those faint blue orbs. They were vacant; almost stripped of their light. Devoid of defiance or focus. They barely recognized the dull tip of the boots at a distance of a few inches from his face, and their inane gaze - if it could be called such - trailed up the figure’s legs, covered by thick dark trousers. The whole figure was dressed in dark clothes, making his tanned face stand out more against the still darkness in the room. The presence, however, didn’t change Aiden’s scattered thoughts, like shards of a porcelain knick-knack. Even if he tried, he could remember nothing about himself; just a title, _“Your Majesty”_ , which made something inside him curl up like a wounded animal and ache, ache terribly. He felt like a broken plaything, left there to rot, and he supposed he had already started rotting a long time ago.

 

The man tilted his head a little to the side, pulling his handsome face into a frown, and hummed very, very gently. “Oh, my dear”, he said. Aiden didn’t understand. He just stared, utterly inane. The man’s boot poked his cheek, then lifted it up to let Aiden’s face roll to the side. A mixture of spit and cum poured out his lips and trickled down the side of his face, soiling his blond hair and the earth beneath them. “They really had their way with you, huh?”

 

The prince’s gaze fixed onto the ceiling. A narrow hole, which poured into the room an intense beam of light. But it was far away. Unreachable. Not that Aiden made any effort. It hurt to feel his limbs, even a little, and if it hadn’t been for the man’s boot he would have never moved his head, or his pupils, at all.

He didn’t understand what was so interesting about him, his mouth full of cum, his cheeks sore from dry rivulets of tears, his neck so bruised and blood vessels so shattered that his white complexion was almost unrecognizable. But the man still watched him from above, like he found a buried treasure; except, a veil of heartfelt pity was clear as day in those copper-colored eyes.

 

“Good grief, how shall I bring you to my chambers now? Mmh. Do you perhaps want to suggest a way, Aiden?” The man rubbed his jaw, where a light stubble was growing. Aiden hadn’t noticed it before, because shadowed by the heavy cape.

 

The voice hadn’t lost its sardonic edge, but there was a different detail, which Aiden had to rack his brain to remember. This voice belonged to a living person; not a shadow; not a no-one Aiden wouldn’t have laid his eyes on twice. No, something about that had changed, maybe the way he carried himself… Maybe it was his intentions, through his words, which appeared decidedly more earnest.

 

The man must have noticed the flutter of Aiden’s eyelids, because he chuckled. “Of course, you’re coming with me. You’re my property. Since yesterday, admittedly, but I’m _sure_ we’ll get used to each other quickly. I can only humbly hope my ‘gift’ was appreciated.” He squat down so as to look at Aiden’s motionless form more closely. “At least someone was pleased with it, I believe. Were you a good boy for them?”

 

The young prince took a weak, stuttering breath, but his mouth refused to cooperate. 

 

The man hushed him, all too sweetly. A caress was delivered to his hair, but Aiden barely felt anything except the pain. “Shh… Do not force yourself to answer now, I beg of you. You must rest. We’ll have time to talk later. All the time in the world, really. The fact is, you see, we do have a lot to talk about. You, my prince, and me… Admittedly mostly me. It’s not my intention to appear insolent; however, I’m going to have to tell you exactly why you went through this, and why I decided to make use of my Gladiators for your punishment. You must know all about my family. The people you so adamantly sent to the guillotine… Oh Heavens, I’m getting ahead of myself again, aren’t I? You might have noticed it’s an habit of mine.”

 

The Lord collected the prince into his strong arms, making him lean into his chest. Like a loved one would. They were nothing as such, but Aiden didn’t care. His numb body curled into the warmth radiating from the Lord’s chest seemingly on his own. He hardly registered the words that were being said to him. He didn't understand what they meant, only the deep, fragrant tone mattered. His mind was drifting into a daze once again.

 

“Yes, like that, my prince. You can trust me on this, I’m not letting you go. Not after I paid such a high price to have you, you should know the High Senate is very greedy. Oh, but you’ll make it worth it." His voice sweeter than nectar, Aiden found himself being cradled by it. "Revenge _always_ makes it worth it.”

 

Aiden lifted his gaze once again with the last scraps of strength he had. He whispered - asked, - in the smallest voice, "Dux?", and he thought he heard a breathy chuckle before darkness seized him for good.

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading :>
> 
> i still can't believe i involved like more than 3 people in sex


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